


Pack-bonding

by DarkShadeless



Series: Definitely not OSHA compliant [6]
Category: Among Us (Video Game), Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Autoerotic Asphyxiation, Dubious Consentacles, Fear, Other, This is Getting Out of Hand, XD, a little bit, a spot of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 19:34:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,290
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28818606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkShadeless/pseuds/DarkShadeless
Summary: This is what Sar gets for palling around with aliens.
Relationships: Somminick Timmns/Male Sith Warrior, Theron Shan/Male Sith Warrior
Series: Definitely not OSHA compliant [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2103309
Comments: 10
Kudos: 16





	Pack-bonding

_Pack-bonding_. This is what Sar gets for palling around with _aliens_.

There’s a scream lodged in Sar’s throat like one of those sweets you swallow accidentally and then you try not to choke on ‘em while they decide whether they’ll go up or down. The oxygen canister is cool against his back, hasn’t warmed at all, while every place Timmns is pressed up against him feels as if he has been immersed in a too warm bath. The contrast makes him shivery.

Timmns frowns faintly. When he chirps an inquisitive sound it resonates through his whole… body. Let’s call it a body. “But this is good, yes?”

His appendages twist, their hold around Sar’s legs tightens. Tensions curls through him with nowhere to go. He can’t move an inch, where he’s held down. It’s so _warm_. Bloody void, Sar is going to overheat.

“You bastard,” is all Sar manages to choke out. His voice is more thready than he likes.

Timmns purrs in satisfaction. He leans closer, touches the forehead of his mimic form to Sar’s in faux-comfort and murmurs, “It is. You like it. I can taste it.”

The silky touch that has Sar enveloped from his abdomen to his feet shifts again, a full body stroke and all he can do is grit his teeth and _shake_. How… how long since anyone touched him? Too long. And Somminick is deceptively soft over steely muscles, so strong he could probably tear him apart in the blink of an eye. That… that should not be as attractive as it is.

Sar squeezes his eyes shut and tries to ride out the sensation but it doesn’t _stop_. There’s no end to the feeling, no reprieve. The- the worst bit, or maybe the best, is how it feels different around his cock. How it feels-

It feels softer, on his damned prick, _wetter_. From somewhere between them Timmns’ body makes a wet sound and that’s all the warning Sar gets before the impression of suction increases. Finally, the yell is jarred from his throat. He goes tense as a bowstring, straining against the hold. Arches, much as he can with Timmns weight on him, so abruptly his head bangs against the canister at his back.

 _Shit_.

A glancing touch of something hard against his thigh, almost like teeth if teeth had edges like a perfect triangle, freezes the breath in his chest.

But Timmns doesn’t bite him. Just crowds impossibly closer, suckling on his fucking dick with a mouth he shouldn’t have, not _there_ , and noses under his chin so he can whisper directly against his throat, “It _is_ good, isn’t it?”

It is. It is, it is, it is, and Sar can’t bloody take it anymore without crawling out of his skin.

It doesn’t even matter that Theron is _right there_ , he can’t- Two of Timmns' tentacles slide a little lower to grope him more thoroughly than they already were and Sar squeaks. Aw hell. A bit more high pitched than he will ever live down, he snaps, “No fucking way! You’re not shoving anything up my ass without some kind of slick!”

And he can already imagine it. That amorphous touch, exactly as soft as Timmns wants it to be and not an inch more, _everywhere_ , inside out-

… this is what happens when you don’t get shore leave in a year and a half. You fuck aliens. That’s what.

Somminick rumbles, much too inquisitively for Sar’s liking, and says lightly, “Water based?”

Oh, fuck no. “You better not be trying to sell me your spit for lube!” No matter how bloody long he has gone without Sar is not up for that, no way, no how.

The next chirp, _and has Sar mentioned that they feel like they are coming from the place where Timmns is sucking him off because they do_ , straddles the thin line between soothing and placating. This time Timmns doesn’t say anything, just leans in, up against him and Sar is suddenly enveloped in that warmth up to his neck.

He’s still trying to force his eyes to stay open, alarm tingling at the edge of his consciousness, when Somminick kisses him. His mouth is just as warm as the rest of him. He seals their lips together and Sar loses his fight. His eyes fall closed, helplessly, even as he opens up to the probing of what is very, very likely not Timmns tongue.

It isn’t. Or if it is, it is much more flexible than it should be. Less wet, too, smooth and curious it teases its way into Sar’s mouth. Somminick kisses him and all that’s left of his higher brain functions shut off.

It _is_ good. Void, it’s good. He just wants to stay here forever and maybe he will because Somminick just keeps kissing him, mapping his mouth. But only one of them doesn’t need to breathe.

That that may a problem occurs to Sar about three seconds before he runs out of air.

He tries to pull back but there’s nowhere to retreat _to_. Timmns has him, like a vice, and he couldn’t break that hold if he put all of his strength to it. He makes an alarmed sound, fear clawing its way in again.

Instead of letting him go, Somminick wraps his limbs around him tighter. The soft, wet pull on his dick grows harder and that shouldn’t feel as good as it does-

Panic is prickling against his nerves, pushing him wide, wide awake and Timmns pulls back. Sar gasps for breath. The relief of it makes tears well up in his eyes. He’s dizzy with it, a hairs-breadth from shaking apart at the seams, and that’s when something wraps around his cock and squeezes.

Sar’s mind whites out.

It feels too good. Too much, all at once, and he couldn’t keep up if he had the bearings left to try.

He comes, helplessly, the only thing holding him together Timmns’ touch.

When Sar finally blinks his eyes back open, he’s sticky, sore, and he can feel every single bruise Timmns left on his body. The goddamned alien is still- he doesn’t want to call it ‘holding him’. He has him half engulfed. Void but he leaks heat like a hot-water bottle and Sar can’t tell where he fucking ends.

Okay. That was the weirdest blowjob of his life. For a moment there he was sure it would be his _last one_ too.

So. That is a thing that happened.

Theron is hovering behind Somminick’s shoulder like the galaxy’s most awkward third wheel, looking worried and out of his depth. While Sar is still trying to sort out the last five minutes, Somminick purrs and starts sucking again. Oh, hell no. Sar twitches and gets precisely nowhere.

“Stop, stopstopstop- _Too much_ ,” He finally grinds out. His voice sounds like he was the one wrecking someone else. “Have you never heard of a refractory period, asshole!”

Timmns hum vibrates through the entirety of his body. The sound Sar makes in return is breathless. Behind the bastard playing him like a flute, Theron bites his lip. His eyes are going black, pupils eclipsing the sclera, and his skin is starting to stain cherry red. It's not a blush.

Fuck. No way in fucking hell. Sar is going to _die_. The fun way but he is.

What Theron says though, when he reaches out to touch Timmns’ shoulder with a hand that is too sleek, too smooth and entirely on the way to turn into something much less human, is, “Maybe you should give him a break.” There’s a smoky undertone in his voice Sar hasn’t heard before. It sends a shiver down his spine.

Oh, he is so screwed.


End file.
